Title: You Deserve Better
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Roger/Mark
Summary: Roger discovers Mark's new relationship. Did he wait too long to tell Mark? Angsty.
Disclaimer: No, I'm not the brilliant mind that is Jonathan Larson.

(A/N: Sorry if Mark seems a bit out of character. He's just really nervous.)

Roger was leaned back on the kitchen chair with his feet on the table and his guitar in his lap. He strummed chords and belted one of his favorite songs, knowing full well that it was annoying Mark, who had barricaded himself in his room for an unknown reason. He stopped suddenly when the Jewish boy emerged from his room, dressed better than usual.

"Stop right there, Marky," Roger sat up.

Mark turned slowly, his face already beginning to redden. "Yes?" he squeaked out.

"Just where do you think you're going dressed like that?"

"I – I have a date," Mark stammered.

"You? You're finally getting some? That's not fair."

"Roger! Don't be jealous of me because you can't get that girl to like you. May or January or…"

"April," Roger said, striking an angry C chord. "She does too like me, it's just that my hotness is too overwhelming for her." Typical Roger.

"Uh-huh," Mark replied, rolling his eyes. "Can you just be normal when she gets here?"

"What' her name?" Roger asked, ignoring Mark's request.

"You won't know her," Mark replied.

"I bet I do," Roger was on his feet now. "I bet I fucked her in high school."

"Roger!" Mark was getting angry. "Maureen Johnson."

"I did fuck her in high school!" Roger yelled excitedly.

Mark's eyes widened. "Really?"

"No," Roger laughed. "I just wanted to see your face. But you will get some, I can assure you that."

"Don't judge her if you don't know her," Mark put his hands on his hips.

"Who says I don't know her?" Roger shot. "I do know her. What I don't know is why you of all people want to be involved with her."

"She's really pretty," Mark smiled, a mental image of his new girlfriend flashing in his head. "And really sweet."

"She's a whore," Roger added.

"Just because she wouldn't fuck you in high school, doesn't make her a whore," Mark shot back.

Roger opened his mouth to reply, but he knew Mark got him. Crossing his arms, he spun around. "You deserve better." It came out a whisper, almost inaudibly.

"What was that, Mr. Davis?" Mark asked, curious.

Roger spun back around, fixing a green gaze into ice blue. "I said you deserve better."

"Better than what? I hardly ever have a girlfriend, let alone a pretty one!"

Roger paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I just think you can do better. You deserve better. She doesn't deserve you."

"Then what do I deserve?" Mark was getting angry. "Tell me, Roger, who do I deserve?"

"I – you…" he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"Uh-huh," Mark replied. "Mind if I…"

"How do you feel when she kisses you?" Roger asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"I don't know, I feel… important to someone, I guess."

"Yeah, but does it have a meaning?"

"I don't know, we just met."

"It should mean something," Roger said, walking towards his best friend. He gripped his shoulders and saw the confusion written on Mark's face. "Like this." Roger leaned in and kissed Mark, slowly increasing the pressure, unsure if he should push further. "Did that mean anything to you?" Roger crossed his arms. "Like it meant to me?"

As Mark pondered his reply, he gazed at his friend. Vulnerability was written plainly on his face. His green eyes showed a sense of weakness and fear. Roger. Strong-willed Roger, always unscathed. Broken. Scared of what he said, what he did, what he felt. "I—," Mark opened his mouth to reply.

Ding dong.

"There's Maureen," Roger walked back to his guitar.

"Roger, wait, I –"

"No, go, have a good time."

Mark nodded and turned to leave.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?" he stopped to face his friend.

"Just – just think about it," Roger said, a gleam of hope flickered in his eyes. "Please."

He just nodded, unsure of what to say. He turned to answer the door, not bothering to invite Maureen inside to meet his roommate.

Roger sighed. Mark was gone. He was alone. "Who am I kidding? I don't even deserve you."

Fin